


So Far From Refined

by Vrunka



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: M/M, PWP, Size Difference
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-26
Updated: 2019-08-26
Packaged: 2020-09-27 07:30:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20403985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vrunka/pseuds/Vrunka
Summary: So near to something far more precious.





	So Far From Refined

**Author's Note:**

> Is saying that I really didn’t mean to write this but the idea of Lorenz getting RAILED just wouldn’t leave me until I did an excuse enough for this to exist? I wrote this like a man possessed, a rare pair hell of my own creation I guess.

Raphael is a brute. Boorish and ill-mannered at the best of times, downright slovenly at the worst. He’s big and he’s dull and the only thing he ever talks about with any sort of enthusiasm is training and by all rights Lorenz wants to hate him.

He wants to hate Raphael’s witless face and his big kissable mouth and his clueless eyes. His hands that are so large he can hold Lorenz aloft with ease when he fucks him.

Which is what they are doing now. Lorenz’s back is arched and his hand is sunk into Raphael’s hair right at the base of his neck and they’re both sweaty and sticky, an utter mess. Raphael’s hands are holding Lorenz up by his thighs, holding him open, exposed, his cock just out there, jutting away from his belly, swaying in time with Raphael’s almost lazy thrusts. Obscene.

And not at all dignified or refined like a noble should be.

“There something on my face,” Raphael asks. His voice doesn’t even hitch; it’s like this is nothing. With how much time he spends training and training and training some more, maybe this is nothing.

Lorenz isn’t exactly a model of all things manly and masculine himself.

“You’re sweating in my hair,” Lorenz says, for a lack of anything better to complain about.

“Oh.” And while it isn’t what Lorenz expects, Raphael’s fingers tighten in their hold and with a huff of breath, Raphael lifts him higher. His smooth, sweaty pecs bunch against Lorenz’s shoulder blades, rippling as he settles Lorenz’s weight back against him.

“Is this better then?” he asks. His nose brushes the bottom of Lorenz’s ear. The rate and motion of his thrusting becomes choppier, more erratic as he becomes accustomed to the new distance.

He’s getting less deep, but it hardly matters. His cock is so big and so thick, Lorenz feels full even just taking half of it like this. Stretched thin, the sensation played up even further from the position of his thighs, busted wide and held there.

He hates that he wants this, loves this, is fucking hard for this.

It would be so much easier if he wanted someone proper and well-bred like Ferdinand. At least then he wouldn’t feel like he was losing his sanity every time they fucked.

“It’ll do,” he says because Raphael’s big, stupid eyes are still watching him and waiting for an answer. Raphael grins, all guileless innocence, his straight white teeth and the corners of his eyes crinkling.

Maybe he takes it as praise or something cuz he manages to work out a rhythm that has Lorenz’s eyes rolling to the back of his head. His fat dick is slipping in and out from between Lorenz’s cheeks with a filthy, sloshing noise. Precum and oil in a puddle on the floor beneath them. Dripping from Lorenz’s cock, from his ass, leaking out sloppily even as Raphael’s thrusts drill it right back in.

Lorenz is aware that his mouth is hanging open, pathetic little grunts being driven from his lungs with every punch of Raphael’s cock into him. Lorenz cannot control them, doesn’t even try to; he’s huffing and wheezing like he’s the one doing any of the work. Like he isn’t just laying against Raphael’s perfect sculpted chest and letting the big man do it all.

And maybe that’s why he likes this—loves this, came back from the war and turned against his father for this, this, this.

Raphael whines, nuzzles his cheek against the top of Lorenz’s spine. Nothing more than an animal, an unrefined beast, a brute. He’s gripping Lorenz’s legs so tightly they are bound to bruise; any small thought he had given it has been brushed aside in pursuit of his orgasm.

And Lorenz loves that too; isn’t any better off really. He’s come twice already just from being manhandled in Raphael’s clueless and straightforward way; a third is a far off and distant ideal, a theory more than anything else. But that doesn’t stop his body from richocetting with the same pleasure it’s been feeling for almost an hour now.

His gut tightens in sympathy, in echo, as Raphael pushes him firmly down onto his cock. Fully sheathed in the wet, sloppy heat of Lorenz’s ass. A finality to it that cannot be mistaken for anything else. The sudden jarring switch— Raphael’s girth shoved so totally into him—has Lorenz seeing stars, body aching and cock trembling as a dry, shuddering orgasm rips through him.

Raphael groans behind him. Mouthing at the skin of Lorenz’s neck, just below his hairline. A teasing of teeth, a hint of tongue. Raphael grunts and shakes but somehow manages to hold them both upright as he finishes.

And oh, oh, oh, yeah, he’s done.

Molten liquid spend coating Lorenz’s insides, making him feel loose, jelly-like. He shivers again, back bending like a bow to turn his head and shift his mouth against the furrowed lines of Raphael’s brow.

“Are you good,” Lorenz asks, after a moment—two three a heartbeat and then some—of silence.

Raphael has never been a particularly quiet kind of guy. Even post-orgasm bliss is usually shattered by his incessant talking.

“Yeah,” Raphael says. His shifts his hold, marginally, just enough that their faces become more aligned.

Lorenz pets his fingers through the sweaty hair at the nape of Raphael’s neck. He doesn’t complain about or swat away the soft kisses Raphael peppers across his cheeks, along the sharp ridge of his nose. 

“Are you okay?” Raphael asks. “I didn’t expect that you’d—that is—five years, Lorenz—,”

“Put me down at least, you beast, before you try and have a conversation with me. Let me get decent or something.”

“Five years is a really long time,” Raphael says. “Five years that we—,”

“I know exactly how long it is.”

Raphael huffs. He lowers Lorenz’s legs, gentle, smooth. He holds him until the shaking stops, until Lorenz at least has some pretense of holding his own weight up. “That’s not what I mean.” 

“I’m not asking what you mean. I’m no good at this stuff, you know. Saying the...I don’t know, I guess the things that people need to hear,” Lorenz offers. He rolls his eyes. He’s knees aren’t knocking quite so badly any more, so he straightens up, tries to settle his weight back onto his feet.

Raphael doesn’t move his hands from where they are gently holding him by the waist. “It doesn’t seem like it should be all that hard,” he says. Anyone else would be sulking. Raphael isn’t quite so manipulative. “Did you miss me?”

Lorenz sighs. The insides of his thighs are slick, moist from the come that has begun to leak out of him. Gratuitous amounts, horrible and wet. “That’s what I’m trying to say. Yes, okay, I missed you. Every minute of those five long years I missed you. And I wondered what you were doing and I wondered how I could say that in a letter and I wondered what you would do if you read it.”

“Probably the same thing I just did,” Raphael says, a finger slip sliding up Lorenz’s crack. Like he needs the reminder of how they spent the last hour. And isn’t that a horrible, terrible thought? Getting fucked like that on Gloucester territory. Getting fucked like that near his father. It’s enough to make Lorenz go cold.

“But you didn’t write or try to find me or anything,” Raphael continues. Blissfully unaware of anything just like he always is.

“No I didn’t. Because I didn’t know how to say it.”

Raphael grins. That sappy, stupid, toothy, self-assured grin he gets when he’s about to say something really dumb and really sincere. Lorenz regrets ever having let the conversation get this far.

“I mean, that sounded fine to me, Lorenz. I missed you, I have missed you. And I’m glad you’re back,” Raphael says. He squeezes his hands, encouragingly, and Lorenz doesn’t have to ask to know what is expected of him.

“I missed you,” he repeats. “And I’m...I’m glad to be back too.” His father and his birthright and his property and his lands and his Noble Dignity can all be damned. He’s glad to be back with the Professor again, with his class again.

With Raphael.

He’s glad to be back and that’s all that matters.

**Author's Note:**

> Come see me on Twitter @drunkavrunka, I swear most of my pairings are more normal than this...
> 
> Comments concerns questions welcome as always


End file.
